


MARRYING MITTENS

by potboiler



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bullying, Dark Comedy, F/F, Gay Disaster Amity Blight, Good Siblings Edric & Emira Blight, Hurt/Comfort, Lumity, Luz Noceda Needs a Hug, Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 10:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27349975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potboiler/pseuds/potboiler
Summary: Amity wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but through some amazing feat of willpower, she managed to restrict her reaction to clenching her fists so tight it felt like her fingers would snap like dry twigs. “Boscha?” she whispered quietly.“Now, now, darling,” said Odalia, raising her hands diplomatically. “I know this is all very sudden, but surely you must have realized we placed you in her friend group for a reason.”“You want me to marry Boscha?” gasped Amity.“Not at the moment,” said Odalia, meeting Amity’s exasperation with patience. “We have merely arranged for you two to wed once you both come of age. For the good of the family.”
Relationships: Amity Blight & Boscha, Amity Blight/Luz Noceda
Comments: 61
Kudos: 263





	1. Family Honor

Amity looked down uncertainly at the bowl of sickly sweet dessert that had been set in front of her. She looked up at her parents, Odalia and Alador, who were gazing at her from the other side of a ridiculously long dining table. Around them, candelabras and chandeliers flickered like stars in the otherwise all-consuming gloom of the Blight family manor.

“Are you enjoying your eyes-cream?” asked Odalia, in a prim but loud voice.

“Yes, mother,” mumbled Amity, keeping her gaze fixed on the small mound of blinking eyeballs and sugary pink goop.

“Then why aren’t you eating it?” said Odalia. She waved a manicured hand encouragingly. “Go on, darling, before it melts…”

Amity took the tiniest spoonful and put it in her mouth. She forced herself to swallow, then stared up at her parents with tired eyes. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, knowing that her parents wanted to ‘talk’ the next morning.

“I made sure the chefs prepared your favorite flavor,” said Alador. “Strawberry & Sulphur.”

“Thank you, father,” said Amity, in a voice devoid of all joy.

Amity’s gaze fell to her lap again. Any kid on the Boiling Isles would have been happy to eat a bowl of eyes-cream, but not Amity. She knew from bitter experience that the only reason her parents would give her something nice was because they were about to do something horrible. It was their way of apologizing without having to show any real sympathy, admitting they were wrong, and in fact not really apologizing at all.

The last time Amity had gotten eyes cream, her mother had dragged her to the Conformatorium to get her bile-sac examined by a pack of looming, bird-masked doctors – an experience she still had nightmares about to this day. And that was just one scoop. Amity counted three scoopfuls of eyes cream melting into the expensive gold-filigreed bowl before her. Whatever Mr. and Mrs. Blight had in store for their youngest daughter this time; it was going to be bad…

“How are your studies proceeding?” asked Alador, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Just fine, father,” said Amity, fidgeting in her oversized chair.

Odalia smiled and raised a jade-haired eyebrow. “What of your social life, darling?” she asked. “Have you made any new friends at Hexside?”

“Well, I met a -” Amity faltered and caught herself just in time. She kicked herself for almost falling into such an obvious trap. Amity had learned to keep certain parts of her life secret from her parents as a matter of survival, and there was no secret deadlier than her feelings for Luz. The fact that Amity had to mingle with lesser witches to get a good education was already a source of agonizing tension with her parents. If Odalia and Alador considered kind, gentle Willow to be a dangerous influence, Amity could not even begin to imagine how much they’d despise a girl like Luz.

“I met a lot of new students,” said Amity, in a cold voice. “But none of them meet my standards.”

“I see,” agreed Alador. He sat back in his chair, stroking his beard in thought. “Seems like Principal Bump will let _anybody_ wear the track colors these days.”

“I heard he permitted a human to enroll,” said Odalia. A fire seemed to rise in her eyes at the mention of humans, and when she spoke again her voice was low. “Is that true, darling?”

Amity nodded slowly, and Odalia swallowed as if suppressing a gag reflex. “How…vile…” she quavered.

The word stabbed into Amity’s pointy ears like red-hot pokers. Mrs Blight had no idea how much her offhand comment hurt her daughter. Amity had a lot of words that could have been applied to Luz the Human. ‘Annoying’, yes. ‘Strange’, also yes. But ‘vile’? No. Luz was sweet and kind and one of the few people that seemed to like Amity as a person, and not just a means to an end. Luz was a little ray of light in the otherwise hopelessly dark tunnel that was Amity’s life and now Amity was going to have to badmouth her to avoid her parent’s wrath. It was cruel, humiliating, and at this moment, _unavoidable._

“I just…try to ignore her,” said Amity, praying to the Titan, the gods, and a couple of demons that she wasn’t blushing like she always did when she thought about Luz. “She’s not worth my time.”

Odalia’s expression darkened. “If she bothers you, sweetheart, let us know, and we shall have her dealt with.”

“It’s okay, mother,” said Amity, quickly. “I’m a Blight. I can put some little human in her place if I need to.”

“That’s our girl,” said Alador, sharing a proud glance with his wife.

“Ah, yes,” Odalia winked at her husband, then turned towards Amity and resumed her unblinking glare. “But you’re not a girl anymore, are you, Amity?”

“W-What do you mean?” Amity asked, contriving to sound innocent. 

“We’ve seen the way you carry yourself around your peers,” Odalia continued. “You’re growing into quite the young gentlewoman, aren’t you?”

Amity slowly grabbed the armrests of her chair and swallowed hard. Despite her efforts to look calm and collected, a red flush crept into her cheeks. She did _not_ like the way this conversation was going.

Odalia watched Amity squirm, then dropped a verbal bombshell. “Amity, sweetheart, how much do you know about marriage?”

Amity’s face did not betray her inner terror. “Just what I have gathered from books, mother,” she replied, quietly.

“And what do the books say, darling?” said Odalia, without blinking.

“It’s a ceremony where two witches bond for life in the eyes of the Titan. They exchange rings, make oaths, and eat a giant cake afterwards.” Amity sighed. “Seemed kind of _childish_ to me…”

“Oh no, my dear, it’s not childish at all,” tutted Odalia.

“If it wasn’t for marriage, this old house would be empty,” said Alador, gesturing to the ancient gloom of the manorial dining hall. “Why, I’d wager that a good marriage is far more important than an education.”

“I’d say it’s _even more_ important,” added Odalia, ominously. 

Very slowly, Amity raised her head up. She stared at her parents with wide eyes. “Is that what this is about?” she quavered. “Are you saying I can’t go to Hexside anymore?”

“Do not put words in our mouth, young lady,” said Odalia, sharply. “Your studies are important, but surely you are old enough to understand that books are not enough for a Blight to achieve their full potential.”

“There are some things a Hexside education cannot prepare you for,” said Alador, solemnly.

“Like what?” protested Amity, making the mistake of raising her voice.

“Inheriting the family name!” said Odalia, raising her voice louder, scaring Amity into staring at her knees again. “You are a Blight, Amity. Blights only mingle with the best.”

“I know, mother,” said Amity, quietly. “You told me a long time ago. I’ve cut ties with all of my old friends. Isn’t that enough?”

Odalia shook her head. “I know what it means to grow up, darling. Friendships beget crushes, then crushes beget courtships. The circumstances may seem innocent now, but beware. Before you know it, somebody will propose to you.”

“ _Propose!?_ ” Amity cried in disbelief.

“Shouting is not permitted at the dining table, my darling,” said Odalia, in a voice as sweet as poisoned honey. “Curb your tongue.”

Amity collected herself, but her heart was thumping out of control. “Mother, I’m only fourteen,” she protested. “Isn’t it a little _early_ to be thinking about marriage?”

“Better early than late,” said Alador. “You are young and weak, Amity, and there are cruel, ruthless witches out there who will use you to take our good name for themselves. It is our task as good parents to see our little witchling betrothed as soon as possible.”

“How?” Amity blurted out. “Mother, I’m at school all day. Am I supposed to go around proposing to people in the library?”

“Nonsense, young lady, you don’t need to worry about something like that,” said Odalia, waving her hand dismissively. “Your father and I have already singled out an excellent partner.”

Amity was too shocked to speak for a moment, then whispered, “Who?”

“She’s a splendid girl,” Odalia inspected her nails casually, then went on. “From a family of impeccable character, and with a promising athletic career. One of your closest childhood friends, I recall.”

Amity wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but through some amazing feat of willpower, she managed to restrict her reaction to clenching her fists so tight it felt like her fingers would snap like dry twigs. “Boscha?” she whispered quietly.

“Now, now, darling,” said Odalia, raising her hands diplomatically. “I know this is all very sudden, but surely you must have realized we placed you in her friend group for a reason.”

“You want me to marry _Boscha_?” gasped Amity.

“Not at the moment,” said Odalia, meeting Amity’s exasperation with patience. “We have merely arranged for you two to wed once you both come of age. For the good of the family.”

There was a moment of silence, during which Odalia noticed the anger drain from Amity’s expression, leaving behind a cold and shivering sadness. Odalia sighed. "There is no need to worry, darling. The Hieronymus house has assured us Boscha is a girl of great strength and confidence."

 _Which means she's a bully_ , thought Amity, miserably. _Like me..._

“Please, darling, don’t look so glum," said Odalia. She drew a glowing circle in the air. "Here, have some more eyes cream…”

As a bowl floated over, Amity’s gaze flicked between her parent’s faces. She hoped they would burst out laughing and explain to her that this was all a joke and they weren’t _actually_ going to force her to marry Boscha, one of the meanest witches Amity had had the misfortune of knowing. Odalia and Alador just smiled back at her, and the full horror of the situation fell upon Amity like a hard-thrown grudgby ball. A bead of cold sweat appeared on her forehead.

“Mother, father,” mumbled Amity, her voice full of dread. “You know I don’t actually _love_ Boscha, don’t you?”

“That is of no concern,” said Alador, in a strict voice that deflated all of Amity’s hopes of sympathy. 

“Your father and I are not asking you to love her,” corrected Odalia. “Only that you marry her.”

“But how can I marry someone I don’t love?” asked Amity, desperately.

“Oh, it’s very easy, darling,” Odalia replied, in an eerily happy voice. “The love comes _after_ the wedding. Once all the deeds, oaths, and blood-pacts are properly signed and witnessed and secured in triplicate, you will learn to like each other.” She gestured towards Alador. “Why, I didn’t tell your father I loved him until we had Edric and Emira!”

“And we’ve adored each other ever since,” said Alador, flashing his wife a grin.

Mr. and Mrs. Blight shared a prim and proper laugh. Amity looked down and gave her bowl of Strawberry & Sulphur eyes cream an unseeing thousand-yard-stare. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself walking down the aisle with Boscha arm-in-arm, doomed to spend the rest of her life shackled to a cruel, three-eyed egomaniac, and the feeling of revulsion was so intense that Amity almost fainted. She looked up and stared at her parents with eyes that were now glistening, threatening to shed tears.

“No,” said Amity, in a small voice. “I can’t do this, I can’t…”

Alador’s brow furrowed in suspicion. “Why not, darling?” he asked.

“Alador, please,” said Odalia, reproachfully. “This is not a conversation. Our daughter shall marry according to our arrangements because she _knows_ we are trying to help her. Isn’t that right, Amity?”

Amity said nothing, but her answer was evident from the way her lips trembled, and her gaze remained glued to the floor. Odalia noticed her daughter’s suffering but remained unmoved. When it came to protecting the Blight family name, considerations like happiness (and Amity’s emotions in general) could not be allowed to interfere. _This is for the best_ , Odalia told herself, as she exchanged another glance with her husband, then prepared to lay down the law on her ungrateful daughter.

“Amity, darling, let me be absolutely clear,” said Odalia, steepling her fingers. “You cannot refuse to marry Boscha.”

“The Hieronymus family have already accepted our offer,” stated Alador, “Or rather, _your_ offer,” he added. “Negotiations have been ongoing for months, and the formal application for your betrothal to Boscha was made last week.”

Amity felt her stomach fall into the abyss. “What?” she mumbled?

“Boscha’s parents are having this exact same conversation with her right now,” Alador went on, nodding sagely. “Everything has been arranged ahead of time. Even the wedding caterers.”

“The Baker’s Coven has arranged a marvelous spread,” Odalia added, her voice suddenly bright and cheery as if this information would somehow comfort Amity. “Obviously, the dresses will have to wait, to account for growth spurts, but we have an excellent color scheme. Blossom pink and mint green, to symbolize the union of our two houses. Quite befitting, isn’t it?”

Amity clutched her forehead. “You did all of this _before_ asking me?”

“Darling, please don’t make your mother and father repeat themselves,” said Odalia, pursing her lips. “This is not a request. This is an order. When you finally come of age, you will marry Boscha, the houses of Blight and Hieronymus will be united, and our standing on the Titan shall be secured for another generation. Nothing you say or do will prevent this. So accept it now, and spare yourself the pain.”

“But-” Amity began, only for her mother to silence her with a single terrifying smile. Odalia reserved a special smile when she was dealing with her children. It was a hard, plastic grin that promised Amity that if sweets and kind words did not make her obey, other methods would be used. Methods that would make even a round of Detention at Hexside seem like a tea party.

Amity looked to her father, searching for support, sympathy, a kind word, an explanation, _anything._ All she got was a stern look that said: _Listen to your mother._

It was at that moment that Amity felt her eyes start to blur. The sinking feeling in her stomach had crawled upwards and become a burning lump in her throat. She wanted to yell at her parents how wrong this all was. But what would she even say? Where would she even begin? Amity was afraid to admit her feelings for Luz even to _herself_ , much less her parents. They were born-and-bred Boiling Isles nobles who saw even the famously strict Principal Bump as a dangerous liberal.

Mother was right. There was nothing Amity could do to change their mind. Her fate had been sealed before she’d even walked into the room. 

Amity was silent for just a few seconds too long for comfort before she asked, in a watery voice: “May I be excused?

“What for?” said Odalia, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Amity could not look her mother in the eyes anymore. “I want to go to bed…” she whispered.

Odalia's frown deepened. “It’s the middle of the afternoon!”

“I have homework,” said Amity, rubbing her arm. “And I need to write in my diary, and I just...I-I n-need to go…”

“What about your eyes cream?” said Odalia, gesturing to the bowl of pink gloop and disembodied eyeballs, which were now darting back and forth as if they could sense the tension in the room.

“Give it to Edric!” cried Amity as she rose up, her chair scraping against the stone floor.

Amity strode towards the nearest door and threw herself up against the ancient, engraved metal, but the door refused to budge. Amity continued to strain at the lock until a pair of heavy hands landed on her thin shoulders, and she found herself being spun around. Fear filled Amity’s body as she looked up at her parents, their disapproving stares filling her entire vision.

“Darling,” said Odalia, “Is there something you are not telling us?”

Amity looked away and felt tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Her parents were scary enough when they were on the other side of a large, solid demonwood table. But now they were looming over her, Amity was made mercilessly aware of how small and vulnerable she was. “I’m just tired…” she lied. “I’ll be okay in the morning.” Another lie. "I just need time to...sleep on it..."

“Good,” said Odalia, in a firm voice. “Because if you were thinking of doing something dangerous and stupid, like running away…” Odalia let the word hang in the air. “…well, that would make me and your father very unhappy.”

“We trust you, Amity,” said Alador. He squeezed Amity's shoulder. “Please do not make us take that trust away.”

Odalia smiled, leaned forward, and for a moment, Amity thought her mother was going to hug her. Instead, Odalia just opened the door and sent Amity out of the room with a firm pat on the back. The door closed behind her, and for a moment Amity felt all alone in the universe.

The corridors of the Blight manor were lined with the portraits of Blights past and present, all standing tall in dress robes, dueling outfits, and the ominous white garb of the Emperor's Coven. They stared unseeing at the sad little witchling who walked slowly up to her room. Amity paid them no notice.

She felt dirty. She wanted a bath. She wanted to burn her clothes. She felt like she was choking, like somebody had filled her throat with ashes. Only once she'd locked and bolted herself in her room did Amity feel safe enough to cry. She didn't even have the strength to find her pillow or stuffed Otabin and sob into it, like she usually did. She just sunk to her knees and shivered as long, keening sobs poured out from her mouth.

Suddenly, the sound of hushed whispers rustled from the corners of the room. Amity stared over her shoulder and looked through a haze of tears at the nearest mountain of books. Some of them shifted and changed into the familiar shapes of Edric and Emira. They were both holding masks and looking very worried.

"Um..." said Emira. She gestured to the demon-mask both her and Edric were holding, and swallowed guiltily. "We were gonna try and scare you with _these_ and put it on Penstagram, but then -"

Amity ran forwards and snatched her siblings into her arms, embracing them like her life depended on it. The Blight twins exchanged confused glances over Amity's shoulders, then hugged their little sister close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw this AU proposed by @leafshiner on Twitter and I couldn't say no to this whacked-out premise. The idea of poor Amity being dragooned into marrying Boscha is just so angsty, I had to write about it. Let me know if you want more.


	2. Our Little Stars

On the outskirts of Bonesborough, a scream rose into the late evening air.

It echoed far into the city, but none of the witches bustling through the streets paid much attention. Screams of all kinds were pretty normal to Boiling Islanders, even if this particular scream was so long and loud that it would have put a banshee to shame. It rattled the windows of the stately and expensive townhouse of the Hieronymus family. Then it died away and was followed up by a series of crashes that suggested household items being thrown at high speeds, followed by some more shouting until, finally, the sound of a door slamming shut put an end to all the noise.

Then there was silence. And in that silence, Boscha stood alone in her room. She leaned on the door, tears streaming from all three of her eyes and her parents' words burning in her head.

_"All been arranged...for the good of the family...nothing you can do...but you'll look so sweet in your wedding dress!"_

Boscha saw teardrops pattering onto her shoes and gasped as if she only just noticed she was crying. She reached up and violently rubbed her face with the sleeves of her Hexside varsity jacket, to no effect. The tears just kept on coming. Snarling, Boscha rubbed her face even harder, as if trying to bully herself into submission. But this achieved little more than uncomfortable chafing.

She stood there in a red-eyed cloud of tears and rage. Her chest hitched and shuddered as the adrenaline from her screaming tantrum ran its course through her furious pink body. Boscha liked to consider herself immune to emotions like surprise, but there was no way she could have expected something like this. All her plans for the future had been wiped away in one fateful night.

Boscha was thankful nobody else could see her in such a mess. She had a reputation as a stone-cold badass to protect, and since Willow had up and grown a backbone, Boscha was running out of easy targets. Even Amelia and Skara had gotten a little too comfortable lately. Boscha knew she'd have to do some more brutalizing to win her adoring crowd back, but right now she could barely breathe.

So she stood there. Crying, and hating herself for crying. She hadn't cried like this since...

...since...

When _was_ the last time she'd wept? Oh, yeah, the day a flying grudgby ball had knocked a couple of her baby fangs out. Boscha remembered her mother's voice cutting through the haze of bloody tissues and blubbering to inform her that tears were for _losers_ and _half-witches._ Not Grudgby superstars like her little Boschy. No, Mrs. Hieronymus know her little girl was a winner, and winners did not cry.

Winners got _mad._

That philosophy was the key to thousands of grudgby victories. Boscha never got sad when getting as angry as possible was so much more productive. And satisfying. It helped when Boscha had something to take out her anger on, like a grudgby ball, a trashcan, or Willow. But when Boscha was alone and had nobody to manhandle, her anger turned in on itself.

Boscha glared around her bedroom for something she could get mad at. Her glistening eyes rolled up as she took in the racks of obsessively-polished Grudgby trophies that filled her room from floor to ceiling. They gleamed as they reflected the light from her huge dressing mirror. Boscha shut her eyes and grabbed the nearest trophy as if she was trying to throttle it. Her throwing arm snapped forwards like a whip, and...

_CRASH_

Boscha opened her eyes. In the shattered mirror, a thousand little fractured Boschas stared back at her. Everything was quiet apart from the occasional tinkle of broken mirror shards dropping onto the desk below. Boscha waited for the rush of catharsis that usually followed an act of violence, and went on waiting. Eventually, she realized she hadn't done anything except mess up her room. A lot.

Without looking down, Boscha snapped open a glowing purple scroll. Her Penstagram feed unfolded in a long line of selfies plastered with gaudy filters. After a few moments of effort, Boscha was able to tear her thousand-yard stare away from the shattered mirror. She looked down at her scroll, swished towards the handle WITCHCHICK128, and input a message with trembling fingers.

[Amity I need to talk]

Boscha waited for at least a minute. A minute was enough, she felt. Boscha had no idea what Amity would say, or how she would even respond. But she was going to keep trying because right now, _anything_ would have been better than having to go back and talk to her parents.

[AMITY]

[AMITY]

[A M I T Y]

[PICK UP YOUR FUCKING SCROLL]

* * *

Amity wanted to stop shivering, but her body wouldn't obey.

Sadness shook her like a cold fever, but at least the feeling of immediate physical terror had gone. Her parents were several rooms and one locked door away. They couldn't touch her now, even if they wanted to. Odalia and Emira had a very old-school approach to childcare that made the rewards feel like punishments and the punishments feel like wide-awake nightmares. Not that they ever hurt Amity themselves. No, they had _servants_ for that.

Amity turned her head and tried to focus through teary eyes at her brother's concerned face. He was sitting next to her on the bed with an arm wrapped supportively around her shoulders. Amity said nothing and leaned into his chest, where the tunic was now wet from her tears. There was total silence, which was a rare occurrence in any room containing at least one of the Blight twins. Neither Edric nor Emira seemed to have any mischief on their minds. They just stayed quiet and waited for the youngest of the Blights to stop crying. 

Amity was mortified at how quickly she'd gone to pieces in her siblings' arms, but at the same time, she felt relieved. She didn't have to be prim and proper around her twin siblings. She could just be the baby sister for a while. Ed and Em could be cruel when they wanted, but they knew when to quit.

"Mittens?" said Edric's voice by Amity's ear. "You okay?"

"Of course she's not okay, you idiot," hissed Emira, who was leaning on the door in front of them. "Would _you_ be okay if you found out you were being hitched to an angry triclops?"

"I would if he was hot," replied Edric, without looking up from Amity.

Emira rolled her eyes. "Really, Ed?"

Edric shot his sibling a glance. "Well, excuse me for comforting our baby sister with a joke," he scoffed.

"Amity doesn't need jokes," Emira began walking towards them. "She needs an explanation," she said, in a lower voice. "I'm sorry, Amity. We should have told you about this a long time ago..."

A spark of curiosity broke Amity out of her malaise. "What?" she mumbled.

"We knew this day would come, Mittens," Edric confessed, rubbing Amity's arm apologetically. "Arranged marriages are kind of a big tradition for Blights."

"Mom and dad explained it to us a while back," said Emira, sighing and staring up at the ceiling. "It's their way of keeping the family 'pure'. It's not just limited to us, either. All the rich houses do it."

"Blights spend _decades_ arranging this stuff," said Edric. "The marriage is just a formality. All the important stuff is made using blood pacts, unbreakable oaths, and big ol' dowries."

"Dowries?" asked Amity, rubbing her eyes.

"Uh, they're kind of like a deposit," said Emira. "Just in case something happens to you or Boscha before you turn eighteen."

"Like when you rent a boat!" said Edric. But, y'know, instead of a boat it's an...actual live person."

Amity's eyes fell. "This is a nightmare..." she mumbled.

"You said it, Mittens," said Edric. "Once they have a partnership arranged, nothing can stop them unless somebody either dies or pays up a lot of snails..." Edric faltered as he noticed Amity's expression growing increasingly nervous. "Wow, I suck at comforting, don't I?"

"Why didn't you guys _say_ anything?" said Amity, trying hard to stop her voice trembling.

"We thought mom and dad would at least leave you alone for a few more years," said Emira, mournfully. "Y'know, let you have _some_ kind of childhood." She sighed heavily. "Now they're in a big hurry, and I don't know why. Maybe they need money. The Hieronymus house isn't exactly the most 'noble' but those guys are rolling in snails..."

"Or maybe they're scared of the human," added Edric.

"Shut up," hissed Emira, her eyes flicking nervously between Amity and her brother.

"Mom's already complained to Bump about the human being in Amity's class, and she told me that Luz wanted to-" Edric's voice died away as he noticed Emira's forbidding 'cut it out' glare. He turned back to Amity and saw her curled up, knees tight against her chest. She was staring at him nervously.

"What?" Amity quavered. "When I spoke to her, she didn't even know the human's name!"

"Mom knows more than you'd think," said Edric, slowly. "She told us to keep an eye on Luz at Hexside. Especially when she's around you. See, mom's afraid that-" Edric swallowed awkwardly. He glanced at his sister and smiled in a queasy way. "Em, maybe you should tell her..."

"I don't think so," said Emira, scowling. "You're the one who brought it up, Ed."

Edric looked back at his baby sister, who was still staring at him with pleading eyes. He sighed. "Mom is afraid that Luz wants to...eat your bile gland."

To her siblings' amazement, Amity was not upset. She just laughed. It was a strangled, weary laugh but still, a laugh.

"Oh, that is so _stupid_ ," said Amity. "I mean, have they even _seen_ Luz? That girl couldn't hurt a fly. She's sweet and gentle and...and..."

Suddenly Amity's hands flew up to her eyes, trying to catch the tears before they fell. She really didn't want to think about Luz, but that's all she seemed to be able to think about at the moment. Luz, Luz, Luz. Amity liked was good at imagining the human girl - picturing her smile, her laugh, and the way her innocent, earnest eyes seemed to cut through the gloom and bring out the best in the world around her. But now these memories just tortured Amity like the memory of a warm blanket tortured someone left outside in a blizzard.

Emira walked towards her baby sister, her suspicion guided by some kind of ancient sibling senses. "Mittens?" she began, in a very cautious voice. "Are you and the human-"

"No!" snapped Amity.

"I didn't even say-"

"No, Emira." Amity curled up tighter, like a turtle retreating into its shell. "No."

"Okay, okay," said Emira, holding her hands up and contriving to look innocent. She turned away as if she was about to drop the subject, but then her jade-colored eyebrows knitted skeptically. "I mean, it's just that you have spent a _lot_ of time with that girl, Mittens."

"I know," said Amity, narrowing her eyes. "I can't get rid of her. She's so annoying."

"Yeah," said Emira, rubbing the back of her head. "It's like, first she volunteers to be your Grom champion, and then you take up Grudgby again just so you can play together-"

"I know," said Amity, quietly.

"And then, after school, you're always talking about her, and saying 'you'll never guess what Luz said today' in this really bouncy voice-"

 _"I know!"_ snapped Amity, in a watery voice. She swallowed painfully before speaking again. "In case you haven't noticed, Emira, I'm in kind of a weird place right now, so just...lay off...please..."

After some awkward silence, Edric whispered, "Do mom and dad know?"

"Know what?" whispered Amity, bitterly. "That I haven't even spoken to Lilith for ages? Or that I tried to make amends with Willow? Or that Boscha now hates my guts? Or that I, like, sincerely regret ever being born? Because no, Edric, they don't."

There was another long silence. Emira kneeled next to Amity's bed, reached up, and placed her cool white palm against the red tear-streaked skin of her sister's face. Amity scowled but leaned into Emira's comforting touch.

"Mittens, Mittens, Mittens," tutted Emira. "What are we going to do with you?"

"I don't know," mumbled Amity. "Help me pick out a wedding dress?" she added, in a voice that was spikey with sarcasm.

Emira nodded and smiled bitterly. "Maybe we could have a Grudgby-themed wedding."

"Yeah," said Edric. "With cheerleaders instead of bridesmaids..."

A small giggle left Emira's mouth. "And get a bouquet of rusty smidges!"

Edric and Emira laughed, but Amity did not join them, so there was yet another long, awkward silence, this one rendered even longer and more awkward by an awareness that their attempt to comfort their baby sister had failed. There was no silver lining in this cloud. This was awful, and they all knew it. 

Emira watched her baby sister sitting there in a cold, sad daze, and whispered, "Amity?"

Amity twitched. "Yes?"

"Could you marry Boscha?" said Emira. "I mean, if you _had_ to?" she added quickly. "Like really, _really_ had to?"

Mind reeling, Amity held her head in her hands. "I don't know," she muttered.

“Weren’t you guys, like, best friends since baby class?”

“Yeah," scoffed Amity. "But that was mom's idea, not mine...”

"You and Boscha don't even like each other anymore, huh?" said Edric.

"I don't think I _ever_ liked Boscha," said Amity, with a defeated sigh. "All she does is bully people."

"So do me and Emira," Edric admitted with neither shame nor hesitation.

Amity looked up, fuming. "No, you guys just play stupid tricks because you think it's fun. Boscha is..." Amity faltered as she struggled to find words that would describe Boscha's unique kind of unpleasantness. "Boscha...thinks some lives are worth less than others. And she loves seeing people afraid of her." She sighed heavily. "She's _just_ like mom and dad. No wonder they want me to marry her..."

"Boscha been messing with you, Mittens?" asked Emira, in a tone that promised that vengeance would be sought if Amity answered 'yes'.

This made Amity pause and think for a moment. "No," she conceded. "Look, you two, Boscha has never been mean to _me._ But she's been mean to almost everyone I've ever known. And I was mean too. I can't be a part of that anymore. I...made a promise..."

Amity stared into space, her eyes wide. Suddenly it was clear to her. She had friends now. Not the parent-chosen 'friends' who would pose for selfies and walk with her to class but otherwise be complete strangers. But _actual_ friends who wanted her to be happy. Friends who were ordinary witches whose families didn't give away their own children. Maybe they could do something...

"I have to talk to somebody," said Amity, trying to pull herself into the sitting position.

Amity's hand trembled in anticipation as the glowing purple scroll unrolled in her hands. But before she could input a single letter, Edric waved his fingers, and the scroll curled back up and vanished.

"Hey!" snapped Amity. "I n-need to talk to Luz!"

"I'm sure you do." Emira gently but firmly pushed Amity back onto her bed. "And it’s touching, Mittens. Real touching. But that's not happening."

"You're a _wife_ now, Mittens!" said Edric. "And you gotta act like one!"

Amity looked up and gave Edric and Emira a nervous glare, fully expecting this to be some kind of joke. But for once, her siblings weren't joking. They were disturbingly, uncharacteristically serious.

"So now you want me to go along with this?" gasped Amity. "I thought you were on my side!"

"We are, Mittens," said Emira, in a low voice. "We want you to be safe. You have to be careful from now on. Because if you thought mom and dad were strict before, they are about to get a _hundred times worse_."

"W-What?" said Amity, anxiety rising.

"They've promised you to the Hieronymuses," said Edric. "Which means if you so much as _blink_ at another witch, it could mean feuding between the houses."

"Like, _real_ feuding," said Emira, gravely.

Edric nodded in agreement. "Death-hexes-through-the-mail feuding. Mom and dad will take pretty drastic steps to prevent something like that from happening. So that means-"

"-I can't talk to anyone," whispered Amity, cutting her brother off. Her hands tangled nervously in her lap. "I know, guys. I'm not stupid. I just wanted to, you know, talk for one last time before-" Amity choked as she found her emotions exceeded her words. "No, no, I _am_ stupid. why didn't I say anything to her when I had the chance?"

Amity retracted into sullen silence again. Then Edric nudged her. "You can talk to her at school," he said, encouragingly.

"And if anyone else snitches, we'll feed 'em to the choosing hat," said Emira, cracking her knuckles. "Mom and dad will never suspect a thing."

Once again, the Blight siblings' comforting words bounced ineffectually off the sheer rock wall that was Amity's depression. Her gaze fell to the floor but in her mind she was staring out across all potential futures, wondering if any of them contained anything but more broken dreams. 

"Edric?" she said, after a moment of silence. "Emira?"

Amity looked up, and the Blight twins found themselves confronted with the full, heartbreaking force of their baby sister's agony.

"P-Please don't let them hurt me."

Edric and Emira looked heartbroken. Normally they restricted their reactions to a mild smirk just before some prank befell their little sister, or a guilty smile when they comforted her afterward, but this time they looked truly overwhelmed. They took Amity into their arms and held her tight.

"We promise, Amity."

* * *

It was dark inside Boscha's room. Her scroll washed her miserable face in purple light, making her eyes glint ominously as they scanned her Penstagram feed for Amity's response. It had been five minutes, which in Boscha's active Penstagram life was like an eternity, and there were no signs that Amity had got her message. In Boscha's head, this meant Amity was either sick. Or dead. Or, worst of all, ignoring her.

 _Maybe she's talking to her 'new' friends_ , thought Boscha, as her blood began to boil. _Maybe she's with that fat pillow Willow or that disgusting round-ear, and they're all laughing about me.  
_

_Either way, somebody is getting their ass kicked tomorrow.  
_

"Boscha, darling can you open the door?"

Boscha ignored her mother's voice calling from behind the locked-and-bolted bedroom door. She shied away from the small bar of light under the doorframe and huddled closer to her scroll as if it were a warm fire.

"What is it you want, Boschy?" crooned the voice, "New flying shoes? More trophy polish? I don't care if you broke the mirror, Boschy, we have more than enough money to fix it..."

Boscha's third eye twitched in anger. "Shut up, mom."

"Look, I just want to talk, sweetheart. Won't you let me talk to you?"

"No," whispered Boscha. "Go. Away."

"I promise I won't ask you for a selfie or anything." The voice paused. "Unless you want me too." Another pause. "Do you want me to take a selfie with you, Boschy? I promise I won't hurt your 'clout'." There was yet another insecure pause. "Do the kids still say 'clout' these days?"

Boscha cringed like she'd drunk a glass of lemon drops. Sometimes, the only thing worse than her mom trying to be strict was her mom trying to be 'fun'. In both cases, she ended up driving Boscha crazy. Mrs. Hieronymus took the natural interest in her daughter's life that any parent might develop, and mutated it into some kind of terrifying obsession. Her mysterious role at the Emperor's Coven left her without much time for a normal life, so she lived vicariously through her stroppy pink daughter. And it was very, very _awkward._

When Boscha held a party or midnight conjuring, she never doubted that her mother would demand to know who she'd invited, inquire about their Penstagram handles, family histories, and favorite topics of conversation, then ultimately ask to tag along. So. Awkward.

"Boscha, my little star. Please come to the door. This is important..."

"If it's that important, mom, then like, just tell me through the keyhole," said Boscha, still refusing to look up from her scroll.

"Don't be ridiculous, Boschy, I'm not going to do that."

There was a moment or two of angry silence as a battle of wills ensued between mother and daughter.

"Oh, alright..." Boscha's mother conceded. Then there were shuffling sounds that suggested she was kneeling down, and when she spoke again her voice was clearer. "Have you stopped crying?"

"No," Boscha growled.

"Tut tut, my little Boschy," the voice cooed. "I didn't raise some helpless witchling."

"Uh, yeah?" scoffed Boscha. "I don't need _you_ to tell me that, mom."

"No?" There was some eerily happy laughter from behind the door. "Then why are you acting like one?"

Boscha's fist slammed into the wall. "Because you've _ruined my life!"_

"Ruined?" Boscha's mother gave a sad, burdened sigh. "I've set you up for a long, wealthy life in union with one of the most powerful families on the Boiling Isles, and you call that ruination?"

"Pretty much, yeah," sneered Boscha.

Boscha's mother was taken aback. "I swear by the Titan," she began, in an offended voice. "Your generation is so ungrateful."

"Grateful?" gasped Boscha. "For what? Being sold off to a bunch of snooty jerks?"

"Boscha!" her mother gasped back. "You say that like it's a bad thing!"

"It _is_ a bad thing!"

"Nonsense. Perhaps you don't understand, Boschy, but when I was a witchling, I was never had your kind of popularity," Mrs Hieronymus's voice took on a self-pitying tone. "None of the boys at grudgby practice took any notice of me. Nothing came easily. Marriage least of all."

"Oh, _boo-hoo_ ," crooned Boscha, turning back to her scroll.

"I would have loved it if my parents were kind enough to plan a whole wedding for me. Especially with a girl as bright and full of potential as Amity Blight."

"Hey, then why don't you get married to Amity instead?" Boscha added, in a mocking tone. "Y'know, just to make things _extra_ creepy!"

"Don't be silly, Boscha. This is your responsibility, not mine."

"Wait, so it's a 'responsibility' now?" Boscha snapped her scroll shut and stood up, eyes glowing pink in the darkness. "Is marrying Amity, like, some kind of homework assignment?"

"It's an...opportunity." Boscha's mother sighed again. "It's a simple exchange, my little superstar. Our family has new wealth, the Blights have ancient pedigree. Put those together, and voila! If the marriage is successful, I could be - I mean, _you_ could be the elite of the elites!"

No snarky response came from Boscha this time. She just continued to scroll her Penstagram feed in sullen silence, her pink cheeks puffed up in a bitter pout.

Behind the closed door, Boscha's mother frowned fretfully. "I don't understand this loser attitude, Boschy," she chided. "You always said you wanted the chance to be rich and famous..."

"Yeah!" said Boscha, looking back up as her voice grew loud and pained. "But, like, by being the island's best grudgby player, mom! A real star! Not some kind of trophy-wife for the Blights!"

"But you could have it all, my little Boschy. You can be a grudgby superstar _and_ a Blight. Do you know what being a Blight means, sweetie?"

Boscha rolled her eyes. "I don't know," she muttered bitterly. "Green hair?"

"It means nobility. Pedigree. The kind of class that money can't buy. There's power in that name, my little Boschy. And that power could be yours to own."

Suddenly, Boscha stopped pouting. Her mind grasped the last word fiercely. _Own._

Boscha got closer to the door and leaned against it. "Mom, when do I have to get married?"

The suddenly non-snarky reply took Boscha's mother by surprise. "The actual ceremony won't happen till you're eighteen, sweetie," she said, uncertainly.

Boscha smirked as she assembled the pieces together in her head. "So...until then...Amity belongs to _me_ , right?"

Mrs. Hieronymus hesitated with the nervousness of someone who knew what said next would almost certainly be incorporated into some kind of cunning scheme. "Well, technically, yes," she began. "As future wives, you would, in some sense, own each-other."

"But it's supposed to be, like, totally _exclusive_ ownership, right?" said Boscha, urgently. "Like, _nobody_ _else_ can have her?"

"Of course not," snapped Boscha's mother, in a stern voice. "We wouldn't have given the Blights that huge dowry if Amity was free to just elope with whichever witch caught her eye. No, that would be unacceptable."

Suddenly Boscha's bedroom door flew open. Boscha's mother recoiled in joint surprise and horror as Boscha strode out of the dark bedroom with a huge smile on her face. Then Boscha flung open her arms and hugged her mom so fiercely with her wirey grudgby-playing muscles that she briefly lifted her off the floor.

"Thanks _sooooo_ much, mommy," said Boscha, in a voice that was suddenly sweet as sugar. "That's all I needed to hear!"

"O-Oh," wheezed Mrs. Hieronymus, still shocked. She reached up and patted her daughter's head. "Well, make sure you thank your father too..."

"I will, I will," said Boscha. She walked away, grinning as her head buzzed with cruel ideas like a nest of venemous insects. For the first time in her life, she was actually looking forward to school...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, can I just say that I was overwhelmed by the positive reaction to Chapter 1. I was thinking I'd get 200 hits max but it seems like I struck a chord with some readers and I loved all your feedback and encouraging comments. I have an arc planned over several more chapters, and I hope to make them all worth your wait. So buckle up, because it's gonna be an angsty ride...


	3. Playing Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [warning: actual / implied bullying, referenced child abuse]

Amity walked the familiar route to Hexside, hands clenching and unclenching around the shoulder straps of her bunny-shaped backpack.

She knew she couldn't let the thought of the marriage get the best of her. It was in her best interests to remain calm and have a nice, normal, boring day at school and not do anything that would attract unwanted attention. Especially from her parents.

But Amity couldn't help it. As hard as she tried to focus on school things - doing homework, returning library books, avoiding the choosy hat - the prospect of being forced to wed Boscha loomed over her future like an eclipse.

It was wrong. It was so, so wrong and there was nothing she could do about it.

Amity liked to think she was a smart witch who didn't crack under pressure. But today her opinion of herself was being sorely disproven. Amity had yet to confront Boscha in person about their forthcoming 'engagement', and already she was contemplating running away and living as a hermit in the mountains of the Knee for the rest of her life, eating moss and staying far away from other witches.

She'd tried to sleep and failed. She couldn't even relax and read by lamplight. All she could do was lay there in the dark, eyes wide open, paralyzed by her worries. What little sleep she managed to get was shattered by dreams of...the human...

Then she'd tried to eat breakfast, and failed at that too. Not that she wasn't hungry. Amity was so hungry she would have even eaten one of the 'not dogs' sold by the faintly demonic vendors in downtown Bonesborough. But every time she ate, Amity's stomach turned traitor and she threw most of it up.

Amity took a deep breath as the columned face of Hexside loomed up in front of her. Willow was stood outside the ancient stone steps, facing the entrance and anxiously shuffling from one foot to the other.

"Hello, Willow," said Amity, smiling respectfully.

The effect of her greeting was like lightning. Willow squealed and turned around, arms raised in self-defense, then relaxed.

"Oh, it's just you," she said, in a relieved voice. "Good morning, Amity."

Amity smiled. Even if she felt uncomfortable, it was nice to see someone took comfort in her presence.

Willow returned the smile, but then her kind face became anguished. She looked up at the open doorway to Hexside, then turned and gaze at Amity imploringly. “Um, Boscha got here early,” said Willow, in a small voice.

Amity set her jaw angrily. "Really?" she said.

"Yeah," said Willow, scratching the back of her head. "And I think the choosy hat is ambushing people in the secret entrance again."

There was a distant scream, and Mattholomule ran past with a pointy leather hat clamped onto his arm like a beartrap.

An awkward silence followed. Willow didn't say anything, but Amity read her expression like a book.

“I’ll go first,” said Amity firmly, as she stepped past. “I'll distract her, then you slip in. Got it?”

“Thanks, Amity.”

* * *

Amity was surprised. For the first time since Baby Class, Boscha had actually got to school early. This was a bad omen.

Normally, Boscha made sure to be ‘fashionably late’. She'd arrive ten minutes after class started, climbing in the window and shoving her way to her seat as obnoxiously as possible in the absolute confidence that none of the teaching staff would dare bother Hexside’s greatest Grudgby champion. And she was right. They’d learned the hard way that Boscha was quite capable of bullying adults too if she was angry enough.

But today Boscha had been punctual. _Suspiciously_ punctual.

Amity approached her three-eyed 'fiance' slowly. As if stalking a wild animal.

Boscha was leaning on a locker and, like Amity, seemed to be struggling with her own thoughts.

Suddenly the beady yellow eyeballs atop the lockers turned to watch Amity as she approached. This alerted Boscha, who turned her head towards Amity. Their eyes met, and the two witchlings shared a moment of intense mutual loathing.

Amity made a point of going to her locker first, forcing open the snarling mouth, and taking out a few books before she deigned to speak to what was, supposedly, her future wife.

 _But does Boscha know?_ Amity thought. _And if she did, would she let **me** know she knows?_

Amity decided to play it safe. "Good morning," she said, in her most formal voice.

"What's so _good_ about it?" snarled Boscha. The locker behind her shook a little. She smashed her fist into it, and it fell still again.

Amity watched the locker uneasily. "Is there something you want to talk about?" she said, slowly.

Boscha's locker shook again and was silenced with another punch. "No," said Boscha.

Amity stared incredulously. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I only talk to, like, my _real_ friends?" scoffed Boscha. "So, yeah. We're not talking."

They watched each other carefully. Amity wasn't sure what to make of that answer.

Yes, Boscha was being a huge jerk. But she was _always_ a huge jerk. It didn't have to mean she _knew_ about the...thing...

Amity reached back, fluffed her hair, and put her bag into the waiting maw of her locker. Then, just as she was going to close it and storm off, a horrible thought occurred to her. She turned to Boscha and asked, “What's inside your locker?”

Boscha glared but her third eye twitched and looked from side to side suspiciously. “Nothing,” she mumbled.

After returning Boscha glare-for-glare, Amity raised her hand and traced a circle in the air. Boscha's eyes rolled up to take in the sight of a glutinous purple Abomination rising up from the jar in Amity's locker. She sighed and stepped away from the shuddering red door.

Amity watched as the locker door yawned open and deposited a dazed-looking Gus onto the floor. He lay there, groaning, and Amity noticed he looked like he'd been beaten up. A crudely made HEX ME sign was affixed to his back. 

Boscha walked over to Gus's side and looked down at the battered witchling with her arms folded. “Like, what are you doing playing in my locker, baby Gus?” she said, not even trying to sound genuinely surprised. “Get outta here! You’re gonna be late for class!”

“What is wrong with you, Boscha?” snapped Amity. "What did Gus ever do to you?"

Boscha laughed—one of those irritating, snarky laughs of hers. “Are you, like, accusing _me_ of _bullying_ , Amity? That's absurd!"

“Knock it off!" seethed Amity. "This has your work written all over it!”

"What makes you say that?" said Boscha.

Amity hauled Gus upright and pointed to his face, which had been smeared with graffiti in several different kinds of ink. “Because he _literally_ has your name written all over him!” she shouted. “Sorry, Gus,” she added, softly.

“It’s okay,” said Gus, quietly. He sounded delirious. “I just...need some fresh air..."

The moment Amity set him on his feet, Gus turned and staggered uncertainly down the hall, where Willow was waiting. Amity waited until the two witchlings vanished from sight, then turned all of her furious attention to Boscha, who met her fury with a grin.

Amity swallowed. The temptation to curse out Boscha then and there was overwhelming. Boscha had been about as welcome in Amity's life as a piece of bubblegum squished into her hair, which incidentally was one of Boscha’s favorite ways to bully someone.

Amity thought back to what her parents had said, about Boscha having the ‘marriage’ conversation with her parents too. There was no way this witch didn't know what was going on. She was toying with her.

Well, Amity wasn't going to tolerate that. She stormed towards Boscha.

“Like, okay, Amity,” scoffed Boscha, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “Just chillax, okay? I didn't even hit him that hard.”

“If you've got a problem with me, just be mature and tell me to my face," said Amity, coldly. "Don't take it out on the younger witchlings."

"Or what?" challenged Boscha.

Amity said nothing but her response was apparent from the way she stepped closer.

“Wow, we are, like, almost hugging right now," teased Boscha. Then suddenly a dark look fell over her face. "Shouldn't we be saving this for our honeymoon?”

Amity took a step back, her angered expression unchanging. “So you _do_ know.”

Boscha nodded slowly. Her expression was still snarky and smug, but Amity noticed the way Boscha's eyes were twitching. Amity knew she wasn't the only one hiding her emotions. Boscha was angry. Maybe even sad. But mostly angry.

A twinge of fear shuddered down Amity's spine. She knew more than any other witch in Hexside that Boscha could get very nasty if she wanted to. It dawned on Amity that, in Boscha's hands, the news of their arranged marriage could be an instrument of torture. Amity had to do something and do it fast, before-

“Good mooooorning Hexside!”

The hairs on Amity’s neck stood on end. Her pointy ears twitched as both joy and dread mingled in her body like sugar in bitter coffee. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and a soft but nasally voice in her ear. "Hey there, Amity!"

Amity turned around to see Luz looking back at her, eyes sparkling. "Aren't you gonna say hello?" said the human.

"Hello," said Amity, in a voice so strangled and breathless she barely recognized it as her own.

"Whoa," said Luz, in a curious tone. "You okay, Amity? You got kind of a zombie-voice goin' on there..."

Amity snapped out of her trance and rubbed her eyes self-consciously. “I'm fine,” she assured Luz. "I just...had trouble sleeping."

“Oh, me too,” said Luz, rolling her eyes. "You're not gonna believe what happened to me, Amity. Eda bought back a karaoke machine from the human world, all right, so Hooty spends all night singing, and Eda threatened to burn down the house to make him stop, and then King..."

 _Oh, Titan, she's so sweet,_ thought Amity, as she continued to listen to Luz's stupid story. _And she has no idea what's coming. No idea at all._

_Can I really do this to her?_

"...anyway, so once all the fire was put out, King agreed never to sing death metal again." Luz took a deep breath. "So, what kept _you_ up all night?"

 _The realization that I almost knew actual love for the first time in my life and now it’s gone_ , is what Amity wanted to say.

Instead, Amity looked at her feet and mumbled, “I didn't get to eat breakfast.”

“Aw, that’s sad,” said Luz. Then her cute eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “Wait, why would you have trouble _sleeping_ if you didn’t have breakfast-”

“Dinner!” said Amity, snapping her fingers. “I meant I didn’t have any…dinner…yeah...”

“Oh, Amity,” said Luz. She patted Amity on the head, ruffling her green hair. Very few people had ever done that to Amity without really making her angry, but somehow when Luz did it Amity found it calming. She was almost heartbroken when Luz stopped.

“Don’t worry!” Luz added, chirpily. “You can share my lunch!”

Despite herself, Amity gave a genuine smile. "That's nice, Luz," she began, "You really don't-"

But Luz was already pulling out a paper bag. She extracted something from its depths and held it in front of Amity's face. After trying to focus through bleary, emotionally strained eyes, Amity saw that the bread had been artfully cut in the silhouette of a witch on a flying staff.

“Eda packed my favorite sand-witches!” said Luz, excitedly. “See look! Sand? Witches? Get it?”

As Luz stood there and waited to hear Amity laugh, Amity felt her soul starting to crack with the effort of holding back a tidal wave of sadness. This was even worse than she'd imagined. She wasn’t even ten minutes into the first day and she already wanted to hug Luz as if her life depended on it. Her mind was teetering on the edge of a deep well of emotional torture, and it did not help that she could hear Boscha chuckling to herself behind their back.

“What’s so funny, Boscha?” said Luz, looking suspiciously over Amity’s shoulder. 

“Nothing, roundear!” said Boscha, strolling away. “Like, absolutely nothing at all!”

"Jerk," muttered Luz as she watched Boscha leave. Then she patted Amity on the shoulder. "Come on, let's go see what classes we're taking."

Amity opened her mouth to refuse, but her feet seemed to move by themselves and before she realized what was happening, she was standing side by side with Luz before the Hexside notice board.

Amity looked up bleakly at her and Luz's class schedules. They were identical.

Luz clapped her hands. "All right! Wanna sit together?"

This question unleashed hell inside Amity's mind. For less than a moment, the logical core of her brain tried to strangle her emotions in a desperate struggle for control. But it did not succeed. Amity's face turned red as a tomato, and she whimpered, "Okay..."

* * *

Increasingly tense and sadder than she ever could have imagined, Amity tried to go through her normal school routine.

 _You've done this before_ , she told herself. _It's not great that Luz is in all your classes, but it's fine. You can handle it. Okay, you feel flushed and super nervous every time she so much as blinks in your direction. That's okay too. As far as Luz is concerned - hey, as far as EVERYBODY is concerned - you're still friends and Boscha is just some girl you used to hang out with instead of...your future wife._

_You never started dating Luz, you never even confessed to her, so there's no betrayal. No heartbreak._

_It's fine. Really, it's fine. Nobody has to know._

_Nobody has to know..._

Amity managed to keep it together until halfway through the Deadly Runes Seminar. Amity had buried her face in the yellowed parchment pages of her textbook and was trying to shut out the universe when she suddenly felt Luz breathing down her neck.

"Hello!" blurted Amity, much louder than she meant to.

Luz was startled but soon recovered. "Can I read over your shoulder a little while?" she asked, pointing to the book in Amity's shivering hands. "I bought my Arcane Runes book by mistake." She gently slapped her forehead. "Silly Luz!"

Once again a raging struggle took place inside Amity. Her mind yelled at her to reject Luz and get it over with, but her body just nodded slowly. So Amity spent the rest of the period with Luz leaning in so close their cheeks almost touched.

The situation did not improve at lunch. The cafeteria was crowded, and Amity could not bring herself to reject Luz when she asked to sit together. The green-haired witch grimaced queasily as the human girl settled down comfortably beside her.

It was a tight squeeze. The moment their hips met, Amity's entire body felt like it was on fire. Her fist clenched so tight around her box of apple-blood that it exploded.

Luz's hand flew to her mouth. "Whoa!" she exclaimed as the sticky red geyser flew into the air. "I'm sorry, Amity!"

Amity did not move. She just sat there, dripping wet, with the crunched-up carton clenched in her fist. "It's...fine..." she mumbled through gritted teeth.

"Here," said Luz, pulling out a napkin, "Lemme get that for you."

Amity watched in silent terror as Luz dabbed a corner of the napkin on her soft lips and bought it up to her face. Amity knew she should say no, but once again her body overpowered her mind, compelling her to lean closer. She shivered as the human started cleaning her up, unintentionally caressing the curves of her cheek as she did so. Luz's hand was clumsy and a little rough but it was so...warm...

Luz smiled in satisfaction to see that the red stains wiped away easily, but then Luz started to notice something warm and wet dripping onto her hand. She looked up and saw Amity was crying.

“A-Amity?” breathed Luz, her eyes wide.

Amity stood up and fled the cafeteria without another word.

* * *

Amity ran as fast as she could. She did not want anyone to follow her. She waited until she'd put at least six corridors between herself and the Hexside cafeteria before taking shelter in the nearest bathroom. It was empty, thank the Titan.

The door slammed shut, the lock slid into place, and silence fell.

Sitting on the toilet seat, Amity bit her lip to stop herself from sobbing. With no mouth to escape through, the sobs just shook her body and pumped boiling tears out of her clenched shut eyes. Amity's chest hurt so much but she had to keep it all inside. She had to. There was no other option.

Her father's sharp instructions echoed in her head - _We trust you, Amity, please do not make us take that trust away -_ and her sobs intensified. Amity could not imagine how angry her parents would be if they saw her crying over a human's touch, especially after she denied even knowing Luz's name last night.

She'd pay a high price for disobeying them, that was certain. Amity suddenly remembered an incident in her life, the day after she'd quit Grudgby. She remembered trying to explain her feelings to her parents as they sat there, lips pursed, outwardly calm but internally furious that their child had wasted years of expensive training and thrown away her chance to mingle with the athletic elite.

Amity remembered despair shaking her voice as she tried desperately to explain, knowing that mom and dad were not listening, knowing that they would never understand the choices she made, and knowing they would beat her.

And that's exactly what they did. Not by themselves, of course. Blights never did the physical work as a point of pride. Alador summoned an abomination - a big one, the kind only adult witches could conjure up - and retired with his wife to sip tea in front of the fire and ignore the rhythmic blows and cries for mercy coming from the next room.

If they were willing to cause all that pain over a stupid ballgame, Amity's mind reeled to think what they'd do if she compromised the arranged marriage. Edric and Emira had tried to impress on Amity how serious marriage was to the Blights and elite Boiling Islanders in general. Amity knew that if she quit now, it would be more than a beating this time.

 _It's okay,_ Amity tried to reassure herself. _You can still fix this. Tell Luz you're allergic to napkins or something. Luz will believe you. She'll have suspicions, of course, she's not stupid. But she'll keep them to herself. Just like you do. Just clean yourself up, go out there, and tell her-_

Suddenly, Amity heard the door hinges squeak. Then footsteps sounded on the cold tiles.

_No, please, no..._

Somebody knocked gently on the toilet door, as if afraid of scaring the person inside. “Amity?” said Luz.

_No! How did she find me?_

“Please tell me you're in here," called Luz, cringing. "I mean, there's a trail of spilled apple blood leading right to this bathroom."

Amity closed her eyes in mortified embarrassment. She fell back, her head clunking against the bathroom wall. 

"You don't have to come out," said Luz, softly. "But can you talk? I mean, it's just me, Amity. You can talk to me, right?"

Somewhere in Amity's tortured mind, a fantasy blossomed in which she burst out of the door and fell into Luz's arms. She would sob and hug close to her and tell her everything. About the arranged marriage, about her parents, about Boscha, about the way Luz made her _feel_. And Luz would understand immediately and she'd take Amity back to the Owl House and they'd stay there and lay low and it wouldn't matter if Hooty and King were annoying and Eda was a scary outlaw, because she would be safe with Luz and -

 _Amity,_ a cold inner voice sounded. _You are not this stupid. You know it's not that easy._

_You can't turn back now, and leave Ed and Em to their fate._

_You should have done this first thing in the morning._

“Go away,” said Amity, in a quiet, watery voice.

There was an interval of shocked silence before Luz replied, "What?"

"I don't want to talk," said Amity. She took a long, ragged breath before she was able to continue speaking. "I'm sorry, Luz, but...could you just leave me alone for...the whole day?"

There was another silent moment. Cold water dripped noisily from a tap on one of the sinks.

"Please?" Amity added as if that somehow made it better.

Behind the door, Luz blinked hard. She had been expecting Amity to say many things but she had not expected that. “Oh,” she said. She shivered a little but smiled fixedly. “Um, sure. Of course. No problem, Amity. I'm here if you need me."

Hardly daring to breathe, Amity listened as Luz cautiously stepped out of the bathroom. The footsteps paused and Amity _knew_ Luz was looking back, her adorable face screwed up in an expression of worry and reluctance as she left Amity alone in this cold, dank place. Then the footsteps continued. The door hinge squeaked.

 _I need you,_ thought Amity as she heard the door swing shut. _I need you..._

* * *

Without truly understanding the reasons why, Luz knew something was wrong with Amity. For a moment, Luz considered turning back and carrying Amity out of the bathroom like a damsel from a dragon's lair.

But she decided against it. Luz didn't know as much about witches as she'd liked and was still learning new things every day, but she had spent enough time crying in school bathrooms herself to know what was up. Sometimes you just had to be alone and cry.

As she took a shortcut to class, Luz dredged up a bad memory. Several years ago, some kid had called her detailed drawing of a tapeworm in art class 'gross' and tore it up. What did she do then? Well, she just sat alone in the cubicle and waited until the tears to subside. And when they didn't, she pulled out her phone and called her mami.

Luz had poured her heart out, and her mother had sung to her through the phone. It was just a little talk but it had helped her get through the rest of the day with dry eyes.

Maybe she could do the same for Amity?

Luz knew Amity had a mother of her own. And to be brutally honest, she didn't seem like the kind of mom who'd sing to her daughter.

 _Maybe I should call Eda,_ Luz thought. _She knows lots of stuff, and she's good at listening. She'd never rat out Amity to anyone._

Luz rounded a corner and walked into the shadowy part of Hexside, tangled in her own thoughts.

Boscha was there. Waiting. Luz slowed down but did not stop walking. She never realized that Boscha's third eye could glow in the dark.

"Hey," said Luz, quietly. Then her mind gave a little inwards scream as Boscha stepped in front of her path. 

Boscha locked eyes with Luz, and it felt to the young human that she'd just lost the fight before it had even started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Hope you "enjoy" the shipping fluff in this chapter because as bleak as Amity's situation seems already, it's all downhill from here. I suggest you buy some tissues and read some fluff to prepare for what's coming because things are gonna get worse before they get better.
> 
> I'm really excited to share the rest of this story with you, and the next chapter will be along shortly. Hopefully.
> 
> Your feedback on the last chapter has been wonderful and I am super grateful for all of it. I enjoy seeing readers reacting to my stupid little angst-fics, so don't hesitate to let me know if this chapter works for you.


	4. Three Showdowns in One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Content warning: bullying, humiliation, violent assault, semi-bad touch, vomiting, implied child abuse]
> 
> This chapter gets crazy. Make sure you're well-prepared before you start scrolling downwards.

Luz gave a soft 'oof' as hard grudgy-playing hands seized her and slammed her against the back wall of Hexside.

"H-Hey there," said Luz, grinning at the angry pink witchling that took up her whole vision. "Welcome to my personal space!"

Boscha made no reply. She just let Luz squirm in the teeth of one of her famous angry glares.

"Wow, that's a _scary_ face," muttered Luz. She looked up at Boscha's forehead and the pulsing aura of magic surrounding her third eye. "And that's...kinda cool, actually. How do you get your eye to glow like that?"

"What were you doing in the bathroom?" growled Boscha.

"You wanna know what I was doing in the baño?" said Luz, raising her eyebrows and cringing. "That's just nasty, Bosch-"

Luz never finished her sentence, because at that moment Boscha's open palm slammed into the softest spot in her stomach. Luz whined like a deflated balloon as she fell to the ground. "Oh, okay," she wheezed in a high-pitched voice, wrapping her arms around her abused belly. "So we're doing violence. I gotcha. Ow..."

There was no denying it. There was a reason Boscha was captain of the Banshees. She hit hard. When Luz's vision finally stopped swimming, she looked up and noticed to her dismay that Boscha was being joined by other students. Some of them she recognized from class, others might have been members of Boscha's grudby fanclub. Either way, their intentions looked unwholesome.

"Hey, Skara," said Luz, waving weakly. "Hey, Amelia. Are those new shoes?"

The girls exchanged almost pitying glances behind Boscha's back, while Boscha herself glared down at Luz like she was an insect. Then Boscha rolled her eyes and suddenly her homicidal scowl inverted into an equally homicidal grin. 

"Let me, like, _rephrase_ my question so your dumb human brain can understand it," said Boscha, brightly. When she spoke again, her tone was slow and patronizing, as if she was speaking to a baby. "What were you doing in the bathroom with _Amity?_ "

Luz stared up at Boscha for a moment, then gazed around for potential escape routes. Nope, there were none. They had her boxed in. Luz didn't want to scream for Willow or Gus and risk getting them dragged into this mess. And as for calling for Amity, well - that option seemed to be closed for some reason. Luz was on her own.

"Hey," said Boscha, snapping her fingers at Luz. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, roundear. Like, did your human mommy not teach you manners?"

"Mami taught me to mind my own business," challenged Luz, as she struggled to her feet. "And you should mind ya' business too, Boscha. What are you bothering Amity for?"

Boscha shrugged. "I saw Amity crying, then I saw some human chasing her. Figured I should step in and teach you a lesson."

Luz bristled defensively. "I was not chasing her!" she protested.

"Yeah, whatever," growled Boscha. "Look, Luz, if you mess with Amity, you mess with me."

"Hang on a second!" protested Luz, anxiety raising her voice. "I was trying to help!"

"Did she, like, _ask_ you to help her?" said Boscha, throwing an interrogating stare in Luz's direction.

Luz faltered. "Well, no, but I saw her run away, and she told me..." Her voice died away.

"Told you what?" said Boscha, all three of her eyes suddenly wide with anticipation.

Luz said nothing but stood there teetering on the edge of an emotional precipice. A painful lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down and said, "Nothing..."

Boscha rolled her eyes again and leaned back to her surrounding fans. "Know what I think, girls? I think Amity probably went in there to get away from the roundear!" she sneered, loudly.

As the whole gang shared a laugh at her expense, Luz considered the apparent truth of Boscha's suggestion. As much as she wished to tell Boscha she was a liar in addition to being a huge jerk, that did seem to be exactly what had just happened.

Boscha noted the confusion in Luz's expression. "Like, it's okay, Luz," said Boscha, patting the human too hard on her shoulders. "Of course you don't understand Amity. How could you ever understand our kind? Like, you're not a witch."

"But I am Amity's friend," said Luz, her eyes sparkling as she challenged Boscha.

Boscha's third eye twitched. "No, you're not. You're just a weirdo who won't leave her alone. I was Amity's friend for years."

Maybe her nerves were making her delirious, but Luz swore she heard actual sadness in Boscha's tone.

"Do you know what your problem is, Luz?" asked Boscha, folding her arms.

"Yeah, I have a three-eyed girl who keeps bullying me!" snapped Luz, gesturing to Boscha.

"No, you're delusional," snapped Boscha. "You think you can, like, just waltz up from...wherever you humans come from, break into my school, and pretend you're on my level?"

"I passed the entrance exam like everybody else," said Luz, firmly.

Boscha gave a mirthless laugh. "Wow. I feel embarrassed for you. You think some stupid exam means you're a student?"

"Well, yeah," said Luz, eyes flicking from side to side. "That's...how school _works_. I got as much right to be here as you do."

Boscha's third eye glowed again, shining into Luz's face like a purple spotlight. For a moment she was speechless with anger.

Luz paused. "Boscha, are you...okay?"

"Get out of my school," growled Boscha, no longer making any attempt to hide her anger. "And leave Amity alone. She's mine."

Luz blinked. "Okay, now _you're_ the one being delusional," she said straightening up. "And don't say that you 'own' Amity. That's just creepy. You can't own another person."

"You're wrong, Luz," growled Boscha, her third eye glowing fiercely again. "You're so, so wrong. Not every witch is, like, some plant-loving fatass or human-obsessed crybaby. Some of us are, like, actually _important._ The elite. There's a whole world you don't know about, Luz. And you better keep out of our way or-"

"Arrgh, I get it!" said Luz, in an exasperated tone. "I get it, Boscha. I suck, you're great, yadda yadda yadda. Can't you just throw some paint on me and get this over with? I got classes in ten minutes."

Boscha held Luz in her gaze for a few moments. _I could tell her right now,_ she thought. _Tell her all about my little arrangement with Amity, and s_ _ee how SHE likes it when someone steals Amity from her._ _But nah. I'm gonna drag this out as looooong as I can._

"Alright, Luz, if you insist," said Boscha. She stepped away from Luz with a wide grin and waved to her gang. "Give this human a makeover."

Suddenly, Boscha's gang closed in. Luz saw permanent markers and dripping paintbrushes were being pulled out, like a gang of assassins unsheathing their daggers. Then Luz heard (or rather, smelled) the lid being taken off a can of garbage. She sighed deeply, slumped against the wall, and braced herself...

Luz remained very quiet during the ordeal that followed. She'd been bullied before in the human world. She was used to it. Bullying was a sad thing for a girl to be used to, but at least it had taught her a good survival routine.

If running wasn't an option, she just had to keep her head down, focus on breathing, and never give her tormentors the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Bullies didn't bully for their own sake, but because they drew from the reaction it elicited in their victims. Deprive them of that reaction, and they starved.

But that was easier said than done. At the hands of Boscha's grudgby fans, the minutes dragged out into what felt like hours. Luz heard laughter as sickly green paint and rotten food trailed down the sides of her face. It wasn't the icky substances that made Luz comfortable, but the way the gang invaded her space. It felt like their hands were all over her, as invasive and unwelcome as giant spiders. Then suddenly a voice said, "That's enough." The laughter cut off and the crowd backed away.

Boscha drew closer and clamped her hand around Luz's neck. Despite her plan to play dead, Luz was so desperate for Boscha not to touch her that could not help herself. She whimpered.

A cruel smile tickled the edges of Boscha's mouth as she saw Luz's discomfort. "Aw, not so confident now, are you?"

Luz tried to set her jaw and blink away her tears, but it was already too late. She'd revealed her weakness.

"Like, you're so scared," Boscha muttered as she drew closer. "It's almost cute..."

"You're the one who should be scared, Boscha," mumbled Luz.

"Really?" said Boscha, patting Luz on the cheek. "And why is that?"

Luz turned to look at her with red eyes. "Human tears are filled with poison," said Luz, sniffling.

Boscha recoiled, wringing her hands in fear, then suddenly snarled and slapped Luz across the face. Luz's head jolted sideways with the blow.

"You..." breathed Boscha, grabbing Luz by the collar. "Like, you're such an...idiot!"

Luz looked away from Boscha, breathing hard as her heart pounded in her chest.

"You don't deserve Amity!" cried Boscha, as she shook Luz violently. "Or Hexside! And you don't deserve to wear all these stupid colors!"

Boscha grabbed the sleeve of Amity's tunic - green, for the plant track - and yanked with all her might. The material tore off easily in her grip. Luz shivered as she felt the open air touching the bare skin of her arm. She'd put up a lot with Boscha. She had even borne the 'makeover' without a sound. But this was too much. Luz crouched down and buried her face in her knees.

"Oh, wow," scoffed Boscha, staring down at the curled-up human. "Are you _crying_ right now, Luz?"

Luz wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them in tighter, trying to make herself very small.

"Awww," Boscha smiled and unrolled her glowing pink scroll. "I say we put this girl on Penstagram. What about you guys?"

Boscha waited for a response from her assembled lackeys. It did not arrive. Instead, Boscha became aware of the murmurs of discomfort from her gang. She looked over her shoulder and noticed it wasn't just her gang watching anymore. Other students had stopped to watch. Boscha could hear whispered conversations. People were talking about her, and not in the way she wanted.

"Captain," croaked Skara, stepping out from the crowd and reaching to touch Boscha's shoulder. "S-She's had enough, m-maybe we shouldn't-"

Boscha spun around, and Skara felt a wave of barely-suppressed magical anger hit her. "Shut. Up." Boscha growled. She turned around again, pointing aggressively at random witches in the crowd. "And you guys can shut up too! Unless you want to end up like the round-ear here!"

The snarky smile returned to Boscha's face as she saw almost every witch in the crowd avert their eyes.

All except for one witch who, Boscha noticed, was staring straight at her.

And looked angry. Really angry.

As in, 'snarling with undiluted beast-rage' angry.

And now she was running towards Boscha as fast as her legs could go.

Boscha had just enough time to blurt "Oh fuc-" before Amity's fist struck her right in the very center of her face.

Boscha reeled backward, only barely managing to keep her balance. Then there was a breathless moment of silence as she very slowly reached up to touch her nose and felt blood. She glared up at Amity in wide-eyed disbelief. "Like, did you just-"

Amity punched her again. Not with her own fist this time. But with the giant purple fist of a freshly-summoned Abomination. There was a wet slapping noise as the fist caught Boscha on the chest, sending her flying head-over-heels into the grass. Boscha picked herself up, her bubblegum pink Grudgby jacket covered in green stains, and snarled at Amity like a wild animal. Amity was already striding towards her, cold and speechless with rage.

"Oh, no!" cried Skara, as she watched the two witchlings rush at full speed towards each other. "School duel! _School duel!"_

Luz, who until this point had been curled up in a ball of paint and graffiti, managed to gaze up. She tried to focus on the chaos currently unfolding in every direction around her. She clutched the ripped-up arm of her uniform nervously as she heard the cry of 'School duel! School duel!' being taken up by the Hexside student body. There was screaming, cheering, whistling, and frantic arguing.

Luz's mouth gaped in disbelief as she saw, in a matter of seconds, a gambling ring being set up and running, with teachers and students alike taking bets on who they thought would win. The outside of Hexside had become a coliseum. And Amity and Boscha were right in the middle of it.

"Amity, WAIT!" cried Luz, shoving a banana skin off her head as she fought through the crowd.

Amity's tear-streaked face turned, beckoned by the sound of Luz's plaintive cry. And in those few moments of vulnerability, Boscha seized the opportunity to send a grudgby ball saturated with dangerous magical energy flying into Amity's head. The crowd went 'ooooooh' as Amity fell to the ground with a red welt now covering half her face.

"Ha!" said Boscha. Then her grin of triumph disappeared as the sun was blocked out by Amity's Abomination.

It stood up to its full height, shivered a little, then retched a torrent of purple slime into Boscha's face.

"Aaargh!" Boscha fell back, spitting furiously. "Oh, Titan, it's in my mouth!"

As Boscha prepared to retaliate, her third eye burning with rage and disgust, Amity picked herself back up and ran towards her.

"I'm fine, Amity, please!" cried Luz, trying to step in front of her protector. "Don't do this!"

Luz's cries burned in Amity's ears as she ran past, but she wasn't going to give Boscha even a moment to recover. She'd had enough. She had deliberately numbed herself the fact she was digging her own grave, losing her parent's trust, and damaging the family name. None of that mattered now. All that mattered was making Boscha feel all of the pain she'd inflicted on Luz, _and more._

Amity leaped to her feet and ordered her Abomination to her side. The Abomination melted then formed around Amity's body like a suit of armor, and she charged towards Boscha, footsteps shaking the ground. Boscha snarled and prepared to strike at the Abomination with everything she had.

The two witchlings clashed in a plume of pink and green. Luz watched in horror as the crowd roared its approval.

Amity's Abomination swiped at Boscha with an angry gurgle, then staggered backwards as Boscha's fist spat fire, punching a hole in the Abomination's sad, drooping face. Yet the wound almost instantly slurped shut, and the mucoid giant proceeded to pin Boscha to the dirt with a giant purple hand.

Boscha growled in frustration and unleashed a shotgun blast of flaming grudgby balls. The burning projectiles punched straight through the dripping torso of the Abomination, missing Amity's body but, unfortunately, _not_ missing a couple of random students in the crowd, who were knocked out cold.

"Stop!" cried Luz. Suddenly a barrage of mucus-soaked grudgby balls knocked out a particularly tall ghoul-like teacher, who fell forwards to reveal Gus and Willow, huddled behind them.

"Gus!" Luz cried, running towards them. "Willow!"

Luz ran towards her friends, but before they could speak, everything was drowned out by the sound of Boscha screaming like a banshee. She had unleashed a gout of flame so furious not even an Abomination's gloopy flesh could regenerate from it. A booming roar echoed around the school as Amity's Abomination was consumed by the erupting flames. Then, suddenly, the collapsing Abomination parted like a sticky purple curtain to reveal Amity, who leaped out and struck Boscha in a flying tackle.

Luz watched in silent terror as both witchlings tore into each other like animals. They weren't even _trying_ to make it a proper duel anymore. Amity, driven by pure rage, was trying to punch and kick every part of Boscha within reach, while Boscha had her stringy-muscled pink arm squeezed tight around Amity's neck.

"We gotta do something!" stammered Luz as she fought to see the fight through the churning crowd. "Willow, use your plants!"

"How?" said Willow, squashed between two larger students. "I can't even see them!"

"We have to find Principal Bump!" Luz proposed, desperation straining her normally peppy voice.

"Yeah, that might not work," Gus observed, bleakly.

Luz rounded on him. "Why not?"

"He's already _here_ ," answered Gus, pointing at the crowd.

Squinting hard in the distance, Luz saw a demonic skullcap peeking its eyes above the mass of spectators. Principal Bump was on the edges of the crowd, betting snails on the fight. He gave Luz a respectful nod as she staggered towards him.

"Principal, what are you _doing?"_ cried Luz.

"Watching the fight," said Principal Bump, in a tone that suggested this was obvious. "Ah, the first school duel to the semester," he added, wistfully. "You're lucky, Luz. Normally we don't get these until exam season!"

"You have to stop them!" cried Luz.

"Certainly not," said Principal Bump, frowning. "I have 500 snails riding on Amity to win. And the teacher's lounge needs a new bathroom, for Titan's sake, it's been almost a 400 years..."

"Principal Bump, please!" begged Luz, frantic with worry for Amity.

The ancient Principal sighed, rolled his demonic eyes, then began to form a spell-circle in the air. Suddenly, some kind of emerald-green slime had begun oozing out of the ground around Boscha and Amity. It formed several large puddles, which ran together into a putrid hill of glowing mucus that formed, slowly, into the largest Abomination Luz had ever seen.

Almost instantly, the baying crowd of witches and witchlings went silent and retreated in fear. The gigantic Abomination slowly reached down, pulled Boscha off Amity with ease, then picked the green-haired witchling up like a doll.

"Oh, thank you," breathed Luz. She looked up at Principle Bump, only to see he had gone quiet.

"This is not my doing," said Principal Bump, in a slow cautious voice. "That appears to be...Blight magic..."

Luz looked back at Amity. The thing that had Amity in its grip was definitely an Abomination. Although the slime looked better-congealed and barely dripped anywhere. And where there should have been a sad, drooling face there was an eyeless mask and a very large mouth. Then it threw back its head and vented a loud, rumbling roar.

"Does that thing have teeth?" quavered Willow, hiding behind Luz.

"What sick son-of-a-witch gives their Abomination _teeth?"_ said Gus.

The answer arrived in the form of a well-dressed man who stepped seemingly out of nowhere from the Abomination's legs.

Alador Blight.

Alador said nothing. He simply glared at Amity, who immediately ceased struggling in the green Abomination's grip. She hung there by the scruff of her neck, roasting in the infernal force of her father's angry glare. The moment Amity tried to speak, Alador grabbed her chin, roughly.

"We trusted you, Amity," he whispered to her.

All Amity could say in response was, "I'm sorry..."

"No, you're not," Alador hissed. "Not yet."

Alador turned away from his shivering daughter and swept his hard stare across the crowd. Students and teachers alike, who had already been completely freaked out by the appearance of the hellish green Abomination, flinched before his eyes like leaves in a strong gale. Except for Principal Bump and Luz, who stood as steady as rocks.

Behind them all, Boscha pushed herself up from the ground. Her jacket was torn, she was dripping with two different kinds of Abomination-mucus, and her nose dribbled blood.

"Go home, Boscha," said Alador, looking over his shoulder. "We will discuss this with your parents later. Tell your mother-"

Alador was cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat very loudly. Alador looked back at the crowd to see Principal Bump stepping forward with a hand raised.

"Excuse me, Mr. Blight," began Principal Bump, in an excessively polite tone. "Grateful as I am for your intervention, I think you'll find it is _me_ who dismisses my students. And these two witchlings are due for a stay in detention. So if you'd just be on your way, I'll take it from here."

"Go back to your desk, Principal," growled Alador. He turned back to Amity, who paled. "This is _Blight_ business."

"Actually, this is on school property," argued Principle Bump, his polite tone unchanging. "Which makes it _Hexside_ business."

Alador Blight gave an elegant, cultured chuckle. "The Hexside jurisdiction ended a few footsteps ago, my aged friend."

Principle Bump opened his mouth to respond but shut it. An uncertain expression fell over his wrinkled, half-demon face. He turned around and yelled loudly towards the school, "Groundskeeper, commence a lock-down! Set the perimeter pentagram to the maximum setting!"

An ankle-high circle of flames surrounded the school. It stopped just short of Bump's feet and, to his dismay, a few yards away from where Boscha and Amity had fought to a standstill.

Principal Bump mumbled a curse under his breath. He looked at Amity, then turned his gaze towards Alador. He gave him a long stare. "I expect her back at school tomorrow," he said, in a more serious tone than anyone had heard him use before.

A single nod was Alador's only response. He turned back, his white cape sweeping in the wind.

"Don't hurt her," said Luz.

Suddenly, Alador's Abomination hissed and bared its crooked green fangs at the small human girl who stepped forward. Alador glared, half-angry and half-amused, at the paint-smeared, beaten-up teen that was challenging him. He was surprised to see the human was actually trying to look intimidating, which would have been difficult even if she _didn't_ have an old fishbone stuck in her hair.

"What did you say?" said Alador, smiling.

"Luz, don't!" cried Amity.

Luz looked past Alador and was suddenly confronted with Amity's beautiful golden eyes, wide with fear.

Amity felt her heart skip several beats. _Come on,_ one of her inner voices groaned. _I'm going to be punished anyway, I might as well..._

"Luz," Amity began, her voice trembling. She swallowed. "I - I..."

Amity shut her eyes. _Titan help me,_ she thought. _I'm just not strong enough._

"...I'll be fine," Amity said, somehow managing to smile in a desperate attempt to reassure Luz. "W-We can share lunch tomorrow, o-okay?"

There was silence. Amity's words hung in the air. Alador's eyes were so furious they were almost bloodshot, while Luz's puppy-dog eyes glistened in pain and confusion.

She didn't believe Amity. Not for one second. Absolutely 0% of what she saw in front of her could be described as 'fine'. So Luz stood there, trembling, too scared to step forward but too concerned for Amity to leave. Once it became clear that Luz wasn't going to move, the green Abomination vented another growl from its toothy maw and prepared to stomp forward.

"What are you doing, Luz?" cried Amity. "Run!"

Luz craned her head back to take in the Abomination's full height. It locked its eyeless gaze onto hers and reached down, licking its teeth with disturbingly human relish. Then Alador raised a hand and the Abomination stopped in its tracks.

"There's no need for this," he said. "It's only a _human,_ " he added, all but spitting out the last word. "She's no threat to us..."

Luz watched Amity dangle in the Blight Abomination's grip as she was taken away. She watched until they disappeared through the gate, and vanished in a green flash of powerful magic.

When Luz returned to Hexside, the crowd had almost completely gone. A couple of healing-coven nurses were dragging away unconscious students who couldn't dodge Boscha's grudgby balls, but that was it. The student body and the faculty had had enough excitement for one day.

Boscha was gone.

Suddenly, there was a tap on Luz's shoulder. She turned and looked up into Principal Bump's deathly serious face. "My office," he said. "Now."

* * *

"You let him take her," said Luz. She grabbed anxiously at her new uniform, freshly-conjured up to replace the one Boscha had torn. "You just stood there and...gave her away..."

Bump sat at his desk, surrounded by ancient grimoires and battle-trophies taken from Hexside's various wars of aggression against rival schools. He was silent for a while, then shrugged.

"There was nothing I could do, Luz," said Principal Bump, in that casual matter-of-fact tone with which he approached most of Hexside's horrors. "She was outside the school boundaries. If Amity Blight had decided to throw a punch at Boscha in the _cafeteria_ , this wouldn't have been an issue. But as it stands, I am powerless."

"But you've got _so much power!"_ protested Luz, in an incredulous voice. "Like, you run the biggest magic school ever!"

"True, true," said Bump, smugly. Then his expression darkened. "But what would you have me do, Luz? Lay siege to the Blight manor?"

"Oh, yeah!" said Luz, eyes widening at the thought. She smacked her hand with her fist. "That would be awesome!"

Principal Bump shook his head, and the small spark in Luz's eyes died. "You saw how quickly things escalated today between Amity and Boscha," he went on. "The line between order and chaos in the Boiling Isles is just as delicate. There are rules to follow..."

"But it's not fair," Luz protested. "Amity was just trying to protect me from Boscha! Why should she be punished?"

"I never said the rules were fair," added Principal Bump, firmly. "Only that they had to be followed. Please pay attention."

Luz snarled. "But-"

"Heed these words, Luz," snapped Principal Bump. "I respect your loyalty to Amity. But confronting Mr. Blight like that? That was just _dumb_ , Luz. Had we not been in public, he almost certainly would have had his Abomination mutilate you in some way. You would do well to keep that in mind the next time you feel like playing the Good Witch Azura."

Luz's eyes fell. Her mind recalled the tall, cold silhouettes of Mr. and Mrs. Blight that had appeared in Amity's memories. She and Amity had faced down firey mind-demons and incarnations of fear itself, yet she had never seen Amity so afraid as when she was being glared at by her own father. _Nobody should ever have to see their own dad glare at them like that,_ Luz thought.

"I don't know what to do," said Luz, quietly.

"Hmm," Bump began, scratching his chin melodramatically. "You're right, it is certainly a conundrum." He tapped his desk. "If only someone had a friend who existed outside of coven law. A friend who, although ostensibly selfish, has proven themselves to be of a heroic character and can avail themselves of formidable yet legally ambiguous magical powers. And owls." Principle Bump gave Luz a long look. "Hmm. If only."

Luz held Bump's gaze for a few moments, then whispered. "Are you suggesting I talk to Eda?"

"Absolutely not!" roared Bump. He waved his hand, and suddenly three golden rings appeared around Luz's chair and dragged her backward out of his office. "Begone, delinquent!"

As the door to his office slammed shut, Bump turned his attention to the paperwork on his front desk. _Good luck, Miss Noceda,_ he thought. _You will need it..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, that escalated quickly, didn't it?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that chapter. It was tonnes of fun to write. Owl House has such a creative magic system, it really adds some much-needed action to what would otherwise be a mope-heavy angst story. I hope you found this worth your time to read. 
> 
> And be warned. The next chapter is going to a dark, dark place.


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